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and we can talk over a cup of coffee. Real coffee, too.” She distributed anti-grav units, and they headed for the building, piloting the supplies and their kits.
    The interior of the archeologists’ camp was a pleasant contrast to its drab outside. The walls were covered with paintings and posters, and there were comfortable rugs underfoot. The building housed several labs, a large sitting room, bedrooms for the nine staff members, a kitchen large enough for all of them to eat in and a small but well-stocked library. Doctor Vargas proudly showed them around, introducing them to the eight members of her staff.
    After the formalities were completed, the four of them gathered in the kitchen for the promised coffee. Vargas stirred hers emphatically, then fixed her visitors with a narrow-eyed glare. “Please explain to me how the hell you managed to get permission to use the Guardian. Who do you know?”
    “Doctor Vargas, we are on a rescue mission.” Spock looked grave. “As you already know, the planet we’ve been given permission to visit was destroyed two years ago. Our mission can have no effect on its history, especially since the persons we intend to rescue are in an isolated area, out of their proper time stream. Due to an accident, a ... member of my family was marooned back in the planet’s last ice age, with a native of Sarpeidon who was [36] exiled to the past. We intend to bring both of them to the present.”
    McCoy heard the lie, and choked on his coffee. Kirk kicked him sharply under the table. The byplay went unnoticed, as Vargas replied, “I must abide by my orders, but I think this is a big mistake. The persons stationed here are all top-ranked archeologists and historians, yet even we are not permitted to go back in time. We are only allowed to observe and record the history pictures, sift the ruins and try to understand the race that lived here when life on Earth was confined to one-celled creatures in the sea. It’s too dangerous to allow travel though the time portal—as you three already know!”
    “We know.” Spock toyed with his spoon, and didn’t meet her eyes. “We shall take all precautions to avoid any contact with the indigenous life. Fortunately, the developing humanoid race—which at the time of our visit was just beginning a cultural and technological advance that changed them from nomadic primitives to a city-state with an agrarian economy—this developing race occupied the southern hemisphere of the planet only. We will be searching approximately eight thousand kilometers north of the equator.”
    Vargas sighed. “I know that you’ll be careful, but you can’t convince me that anything is worth the risk involved. If only one small event in history happens or doesn’t happen ...”
    Or one person dies or doesn’t die ... Kirk supplemented mentally. He nodded, and said, “We fully understand the danger, Doctor Vargas. Have you headed this expedition ever since the Enterprise discovered the Guardian?”
    “Yes. It’s been four years now. We are a quasi-permanent expedition here. The Federation cannot take any chances of a security leak, for obvious reasons. Anyone wishing to leave must undergo memory suppression and hypno-conditioning.”
    “Frankly, I’m surprised more protection isn’t [37] apparent , ma’am.” McCoy observed, glancing around as though he half-expected armed guards stationed in the kitchen.
    Vargas chuckled, her blue eyes following the Medical Officer’s gaze. “No, Doctor McCoy, you won’t find artillery or explosives in the cupboards! Still, we’re protected here. A Federation starship is assigned a monthly tour of duty to patrol this system. This month it’s the Exeter, Next month it will be the Potemkin. Of course they don’t know what it is they’re protecting—they think they’re nursemaiding a valuable archeological discovery—which is the truth, after all. But I’ll wager you’re the only starship Captain in the fleet that knows